


Old and New Wounds

by Dontgogradymyheart



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Arguing, Blood and Injury, Brief Fluff, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Protective Hope Mikaelson, Rafael to the rescue, Reader is of the werewolf lineage and whatnot, Sexual Tension, very angst much pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25193608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dontgogradymyheart/pseuds/Dontgogradymyheart
Summary: Bleeding and bruised after a near-death experience in the woods just outside the Salvatore School, you must come to face the person you've so adamantly avoided for the past few months as she swoops in as a helping hand for your wounds.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Rafael Waithe, Hope Mikaelson/Reader, Rafael Waithe & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Old and New Wounds

The crimson claw marks that shred down your left ribs throb with pain as each heartbeat passes. The night sky above you seems to spin with only the slightest movement of your head. You’re not sure how much blood you’ve lost or how long you’ve been laid in the woods, but someone was bound to stumble upon you at any minute.

All of the school’s senior students and staff would be on patrol now that the perimeter alarm had been breached. They’d be expecting some sort of malivore monster to show its face as they usually did.

And it did, but you were the unfortunate soul who stood in its way. You’d only gone for a quick stroll before the nightly curfew and found yourself face to face with a towering wolf, twice the size of you. Never in your life had you felt more like an Omega wolf compared to the Alpha stood before you.

It’s Rafael who eventually finds you at the edge of the school perimeters, your still-living body laid next to the dead and limp monster. The fight had been bloody and brutal, but you somehow managed to come out on top without even fully shifting into your wolf form.

His face comes into your vision and he speaks some reassuring words before gently helping you to your feet. You quickly learn that your legs are in better condition than the rest of your body, thank god. Walking is still an option, but Raf slings your arm over his shoulder and lends some of his support anyways.

On your slow and somewhat painful walk away from the dark woods and back to the Salvatore school, your voice remains low and steady as you warn Raf not to alert the others of where you two are. You knew without a doubt that Hope would be on her feet the moment the alarm had gone off and the two of you weren’t on best terms for the time being.

You didn’t have to explain yourself on that part at least, as the entire Salvatore school knew you and Hope had just been through a messy and painful breakup over a month ago. Neither of you had come out of it without tears or words that were regretted.

Before the alpha can mutter a word, you hear footsteps approaching from behind a bend of trees. The figure stops upon seeing your condition, the moonlight revealing auburn hair and strikingly blue eyes that fall on yours. She mutters an exclamation, her voice cracking as she takes in your bloody and bruised figure.

Of all the students out looking, this really was your luck, wasn’t it?

You’re not sure of what kind of reaction you were expecting, but seeing her march directly towards the woods you’d nearly been killed in wasn’t entirely surprising.

Immediately you reach out, grabbing her arm tightly enough that she’s forced to stop, whipping around to face you.

“What?!” It’s the first word she’s spoken to you in over a month and the overpour of emotions within it reopens your aching heart.

Her voice is cold as she stares you down, but tears threaten to spill from her eyes the longer you stare at her. The clenched fists at her side are shaking slightly and you’re not sure if it’s from fear or rage.

You only shake your head, glancing back at the woods before bringing your attention back to the tribrid standing mere feet away from you.

“Don’t...it’s dead...I got it...” You slowly croak out, the exhaustion of the battle finally beginning to set in.

She looks ready to challenge your words, her thirst for vengeance rather clear, but she stops as you let go of her and falter in your step.

It’s a split second before she’s at your side, now grabbing your arm and placing support beneath it as you regain your footing on the uneven woodland grounds.

A curse escapes your lips as pain shoots through your body, but your balance has returned after a moment. Looking upwards, your eyes stop as Hope’s gaze moves up to you at the same time.

Her lips part as a small breath of relief slips through them, the tribrids shoulders loosening ever so slightly. Your gaze flits across her face, trying to read and understand what you think may be genuine concern.

Raf clears his throat, breaking the tension. “We should get back inside.”

As quickly as the moment arrives, it’s gone again and you’re pulled back into the present moment of excruciating pain.

Hope doesn’t bother to ask or speak as she slings your other arm around her shoulder, both of your sides now being supported. Usually, you would argue that you could handle yourself, but seeing as you nearly gave in to the ground before she caught you just moments ago, you keep your mouth shut.

It takes the three of you some time getting across the courtyard and careful maneuvering up the stairs, but you’re directed into Hope’s private bedroom despite your protests and demands to return to your own room.

“I’m perfectly capable of tending to my own wounds.” You spit.

“Like you’re ‘perfectly capable’ of walking?” Her retort comes out more stressed and concerned than sarcastic, but it leaves an even thicker layer of tension between the two of you.

As you slowly sit down on the edge of her bed, Hope and Rafael release you, then walking to the door as they spoke in quiet, hushed tones. You know you could easily pick up on their conversation with your attuned wolf senses but the overall aching and throbbing your body is experiencing limits your focus and attention to yourself.

Looking away from your bleeding side, you see the bathroom door slightly ajar only a few feet away. It’s all too tempting, but you don’t know if you can make it before Hope interferes. Seeing her still speaking with Raf, undoubtedly telling him about what to tell the others on patrol, you realize it’s now or never.

Grabbing onto the bed frame to your left, you carefully push yourself up onto your feet again, holding your bleeding side. It’s not a pain-free walk, but you make it to the bathroom before being stopped. Locking the door behind you, you flick the light on, eyes adjusting to the fluorescent lighting.

Seeing yourself in the old mirror, you suddenly understand why Hope had been so shocked when she saw you in the woods. The once white shirt is now soaked in blood on your entire left side, the rest of it covered in dried mud. A small but deep cut runs across the side of your forehead, accompanied by a split and bleeding lip, both of which have trails of dry blood. Hair matted and just as dirty as the rest of your body, you stand in shock for several moments, unable to recognize the person before you.

The adrenaline from the battle is now completely absent, allowing the full measure of pain to set in, along with a massive headache.

Cautiously bending over (as much as is possible with your open side) you rummage beneath Hope’s bathroom sink, searching for the bandages and cleaning alcohol that you knew she had.

The rustic bathroom is a familiar place, but the last place you wanted to be at the moment. You could do without the emotional pain that accompanied the physical pain you were enduring.

The longer you rummage through her various belongings, the more prominent a certain memory makes itself in your mind, causing you to forget what exactly you were searching for.

_It had been a bright spring morning, sunlight spilling onto your tangled bodies laid peacefully in her bed. You had to pry yourself from Hope’s warm and comfortable grip despite her protests for just five more minutes of peace._

_“Where do you think you’re going?” Her groggy attempt at being serious came off almost laughable, leaving you to chuckle as you grabbed your strewn clothing off the floor._

_“To my room. I do have to shower and find a change of clothes, ya know.” You stated as a matter-of-factly, giving a half-awake smirk._

_Hope only buried her face deeper into her pillows, grumbling annoyedly._

_“Then...just use my shower. You’ll be late to class if you head all the way to your room.” She reasoned._

_Raising a brow, you looked between her figure and the bathroom door._

_“Is this your attempt of getting me out of my clothes again?”_

_“They’re already off, besides, you have morning breath. Hard pass.”_

_That made you laugh out loud, your smile following you into the bathroom as you gave in to her suggestion. She hadn’t been entirely wrong, you’d definitely slept in, though you weren’t entirely mad about it either._

_After a minute or so of waiting, you stepped beneath the warm stream of water, letting it fully wake you. It’s then that you spotted the large, deep red bottle of shampoo standing in the shower rack hung around the head of the spout._

_Cracking it open, your smile grew even wider. God, it was that same scent you could never get enough of when she’d hold or kiss you. The amber and vanilla tones mixed with something rather Earthy whisked you away to a different world._

_“Well don’t hoard it all.”_

_Her voice just behind you nearly made you slip and fall, erupting a rather loud curse from your mouth._

_Spinning around, the shampoo bottle still in hand, she gave you a familiar raised brow, holding out her hand expectedly. Hope now stood in the small shower beside you, completely stripped down and much more awake._

_Still rather surprised, you could only hold out the bottle as a silent response, watching as she took it and squeezed some of the soap into her hands._

_“C’mere.” She simply waved you forward, waiting._

_As you closed the remaining gap, she effortlessly lathered the soap in her hands before running her fingers across your scalp, dragging the soap through your strands of wet hair._

_The muscles in your neck gradually began to loosen as she continued to work away at your hair, a gentle and relaxed breath leaving your nostrils._

_“There we go..” She whispers, smiling slightly as she saw you visibly relax, as if she’d been waiting for it to happen._

_After a few more moments of comfortable silence, you then spoke up, grabbing the shampoo bottle from behind her._

_“I thought you said I had morning breath?” Humming, you poured out some soap into your own hands, nearly excited at the thought that Hope’s scent would follow you around wherever you went that day._

_“You do, but at least this smells good.” She nodded to the soap in your hands, allowing you to begin lathering it into her own hair._

_The two of you contently laughed, no longer concerned about the classes you’d be late to that morning._

The bottle of rubbing alcohol slips from your hands as a loud knock on the bathroom startles you out of your daydream. No...it wasn’t a daydream. Those were real memories, ones that couldn’t simply be forgotten with the turn of a head.

“What’s going on in there?” Her muffled voice makes you sigh, annoyed by how startling she could be sometimes.

“Just cleaning up a little…I’m fine.” Your frigid and biting words have clearly halted the conversation, as she does not respond to them.

After another moment of painful silence, you straighten up, biting down on your lower lip to stop a hiss from escaping it. Supplies set along the side of the sink counter, you gently peel back your shirt, tugging a little at the area that clung to your skin with wet blood.

Accelerated healing did many wonderful things for werewolves, but when it came to such drastic wounds, especially inflicted by another wolf, it would take days to fully heal. And while the school has a nurse who specializes in healing magic, you’d prefer to take care of yourself rather than make the situation into an even bigger deal.

While you’re soaking a rag in the rubbing alcohol you can hear Hope’s heels clicking against the wood floor just outside the bathroom. It’s slow and repetitive, leading you to realize that she was pacing. Your gut twists with a pang, realizing now just how much she genuinely wants to help.

Looking down to the sterile rag, you look at your side in the mirror, almost unable to tear your eyes away from the ragged and torn flesh. Your ribs give the exposed muscle slight curves, though it's not the easiest to see with so much blood, but the flow has lessened greatly.

You mumble beneath your breath. “Now or never…”

The instant the soaked rag touches your wound, you’re unable to silence the hiss of pain. It’s not loud, not even an average voice level, but it’s enough to alert Hope.

The hinges squeak alarmingly loud as she forces the door open, catching it before it hits the wall. You pull your hand away from the wound, looking over in alert to her presence. She doesn’t lock eyes with you, but instead stares at your side with a look of horror and hurt.

“Hope..” It’s the first gentle word you’ve spoken to her that night, but she doesn’t seem to hear you.

Instead, she snatches the sterilized needle off the sink counter that you’d prepared, bringing it to the tip of her finger. You quickly realize what she’s doing and reach out, yet again, stopping her.

The sudden movement and lurch forward sends another flare of pain through your side and you grimace, shaking your head.

“I’m not going to drink your blood…” You breathe out, letting the pain subside again.

“Like hell you aren’t! Look at you!” She exclaims, eyes now flicking between yours and your side.

Closing your eyes, you take a moment to breathe, nodding slowly in response.

“I know...I just….” Your eyes flicker open, soft and pleading.

“...just trust me, okay?”

Her gaze holds yours for what seems to be another infinite moment, analyzing your words and her options. Her resolute look now devolving into a nervous one, she slowly nods, hand slipping from your grip.

Taking a step back, you look over at the supplies on the counter, as well as the rag in your hand. You make a silent decision, not allowing yourself to back away from it as you hold out the rag to her.

“I don’t think I can do this on my own…”

Now her look softens for a moment, as she knew it wasn’t easy for you to let other people help you. You never liked being the one protected, it was one of the biggest reasons why you and Hope had separated in the first place.

Taking the cloth from your hands, she steels herself again, nodding to the bathtub.

“Sit over there, it’ll make things easier..” She murmurs, moving to grab the other supplies.

You do as she suggests, settling yourself on the edge of the old tub. Though your ribs were screaming in pain because of all the movement, your focus was instead on Hope.

She has this sort of careful air about her when she’s seriously focused on a task. You’ve seen this same side of her when she paints during a quiet hour of the day or when she’s in the same classroom as you during exams.

“I’m sure you know this is gonna hurt like hell.” Her voice breaks the silence, causing you to nod.

You release a dreaded sigh. “Yeah, but I’m willing to put up with a little pain.”

The wolf scratches wouldn’t kill you, not from supernatural causes at least. It’s why you wanted to patch it up naturally. The wounds would close and leave scars, just as you wanted.

Scars showed you were a survivor. That you could endure hard things without being completely crushed.

You adjust slightly as Hope walks over to you, expecting her to sit across from you on the tub ledge. When she kneels down in front of your side, you stiffen slightly but remain where you are. The tribrid’s eyes roam over the lacerations on your side, her fingers coming up to the skin and just hovering over it.

You’re anticipating some sort of spell, causing you to suck in a breath, but nothing happens. Her hands comes to rest on the skin just below the wound, stabilizing herself on your hip bone. You’re glad you took a deep breath considering her touch to your skin was a sudden surprise.

“I’ll clean it first, then try to stitch it up. If you want your accelerated healing to do the rest you’ll have to rest tomorrow.” Hope begins to douse the rag with alcohol again as she talks, eyes never meeting yours.

Your unenthusiastic hum is enough of a response, allowing silence to settle between the two of you again.

Unsurprisingly, the second time the alcohol reaches your skin isn’t any easier than the first. Knuckles white from the grip you had on the porcelain beneath you, Hope stills, watching as you adjust to the sensation.

“Why do you even bother to keep this stuff around if you can just mutter a spell and fix your battle wounds?” You comment, hoping that a conversation would distract you from the discomfort.

She shakes her head slightly with a small huff, a pained smile on her lips.

“A year before you arrived here, a young witch broke her arm during gym class. Instead of going to the nurse’s office or letting someone else help her, she wanted to fix it herself. She ended up severing her arm entirely.”

You let out a breathy ‘huh’, watching as Hope wiped away the last of the blood and mud.

“She thought she would be fine to handle things on her own...now she lives a completely different life.”

Hope’s words bleed into your heart, igniting a flame of guilt. It wasn’t hard to read between the lines of her words.

Your response is soft, just louder than a whisper.

“I didn’t go out searching for the monster...but when it found me...I knew I couldn’t let it get any further and hurt anyone else…”

She finally looks up from your side, staring directly into your eyes. Reaching up with the bloody rag, Hope gently brushes it against your split lip, wiping away the dry blood. Her thumb peeks out from the rag, slowly drifting across your bottom lip, her eyes now lingering on it.

“I know…” The sad smile that accompanies her whisper breaks you in half and you wonder how you ever went this long without her at your side.

Silently, your free hand comes up to rest atop of hers, fingers wrapping around her still hand.

She looks up at you again, this time with a look you hadn’t seen in a long time, one you never thought you’d see again: longing.

It takes every remaining fiber of strength within you to not lean down and close the gap between your lips and you can’t help but wonder if she’s struggling with the same idea.

And then her hand is slipping away from your warm touch, leaving you with another lingering want.

“Let’s get you stitched up…”

As Hope grabs the needle and thread you had prepared earlier, you force yourself to focus on your wound, not allowing the disappointment in your heart to show.

The next twenty minutes pass by in a silence you can’t quite describe. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable, but the two of you are unable to look at one another again, even as Hope silently stitched up the small gash on your forehead, nearly straddling your lap.

You’re only able to fully breathe again when she steps away, taking the dirtied supplies over to the sink. You swallow the building tension lodged in your throat, standing again with a little more ease than before.

“I’ll grab you a clean shirt.” Her nod at your current situation and small smirk make you look down.

The white shirt is far beyond repair, dry with blood and dirt and severely torn. Sighing, you nod, letting out a weak chuckle.

“Probably a good idea.” You breathe out.

Once the tribrid steps out of the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, you shuffle over to the mirror. Despite your ruined clothing, you look much more recognizable and much less bloody. The stitches were good, not perfect, but better than you would’ve been able to do.

Your lip is clean, but still bruised and slightly swollen. Staring at it reminds you of her touch and a chill runs down your spine.

Suddenly, you’re able to define the silence that had been left between the two of you for the past half hour: sexual tension, and it was not at all one-sided.

“I forgot I have one of your-”

Hope re-enters the bathroom, holding the shirt she’d promised, but you pay no attention to it. Instead, you finally shatter the tension that had been building up, your lips crashing against hers.

It's a sore at first due to your lip, but desperate and heated. She doesn’t pull away, but she also doesn’t lean into it. Sliding your hand around her waist and carefully tugging her closer, her body now pressed flush against yours, she finally gives in. The shirt drops to the floor, both her hands snaking up your sides and to your neck, allowing her to get a better angle.

Some part deep inside you knew that this would never work out again. The way things had ended left no room for a rekindling in the way of relationships. But the craving for one last touch, it’d been broiling within you since the day you walked out of her room, refusing to look back.

Hope pulls away first, unsurprisingly, her hand traveling up your chest and holding you back just enough. You’re both gasping for air, eyes still closed.

“Hope-”

“Don’t…” She cuts you off before you can even picture the sentence you were desperate to speak.

“...Whatever you were going to say...please don’t.” Her voice cracks as she speaks breathlessly.

You want to be annoyed, to speak your mind and truly tell her how you feel, to try and repair some of the wreckage the two of you left behind...but you know she’s right. You’re both beyond any more words now. A moment like this had to be left the way it was started: suddenly and resolutely.

You pull away entirely from her touch, her fingertips warmth remaining on the nape of your neck for a moment. Without looking at her or making any other acknowledgment, you scoop the shirt off the ground, tugging it on over your head.

Recognizing the shirt as one of your own, another twist of heartache grips you. It seems she hadn't rid her memory of you entirely.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror one more time, you avoid catching her gaze, seeing that she was looking as well.

With one last adjustment of your clothing, you brush past her figure, moving out of the bathroom. You weren’t sure you could look at her again without breaking down or kissing her once more.

Turning to the side in order to slip past her and out the door, you stop as her hand comes to rest on your collarbone, fingers brushing lightly against the exposed skin. Glancing down at her hand, your eyes flick up to hers the moment she speaks.

“Just…” Her eyes rest on her hand, fingers fidgeting with the collar of the shirt.

“...don’t forget there are people here who care about you..”

For the first time that evening, you feel a small and bittersweet smile grow on your lips, the irony of her words causing you to nod slightly.

Leaning forward, you press one last, gentle kiss to her cheek.

“You too…”

You then allow yourself to slip away from her reach entirely, leaving her room without so much as a goodbye. It wouldn't be fitting after all that...no, you were sure you’d see her again sometime very soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! I will be doing various works of different characters/reader (and not just for Legacies!) so keep an eye out!


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